The Three Stages of Death- Killerverse
by EvilPieIsGood
Summary: The Writer. The Nurse. The Officer. They aren't as innocent as they seem. (SH1 AU with serial killers)
1. Chapter 1: The Obituary Man

Harry was a mystery writer, one of the best in his field. He'd take a real life murder, something gruesome and horrific and unsolved, and make the story his own, with a villain, a victim, and a dashing detective that would put all the pieces together at the end to save the day in time…if he could.

Of course, writing about the murders was just the end product. He'd commit them first.

Harry would have never, ever, copy a murder out of one of his books. Committing the crime after writing about it, sending it out to the world was just a red flag. Instead, he would do the deed while in the middle of writing his next best seller, wait a year or two for the investigation to calm, before approaching the family to ask permission to write their life in fiction.

(He had been told "no" only twice, and, of course, they were two of his best. But, he let it be, and never published what he'd written.)

And then him and his wife had taken a trip to Silent Hill, and found the baby. She then consumed his life, and between the new addition and his wife's illness, he found little time to plan out and commit a murder.

But soon she died, cancer, nothing nefarious, and it was only Harry and Cheryl. Slowly, while his little girl was growing to be age 6, he slid back into the swing of things.

(It was planned, calculated, and horribly bloody. It also went _perfectly_, and he started to write as soon as he'd finished disposing of the body where it wouldn't be found for at least 7 months.)

He had been about halfway through his story when his little girl turned seven, and asked him, so sweetly, if they could go to Silent Hill.

Harry didn't want to go, didn't want to take here there. Did she want to go there, to find her birth family, the ones who'd abandoned her to the wilds?

He'd been ready to put his foot down, when Cheryl mentioned the amusement park, and then he just felt silly. When he asked her why she wanted to go there, Cheryl replied that 'mommy' had said that's where she'd met Harry, and Cheryl wanted to go and see.

So, two months after she turned seven, and 9 months after the first body had been found, they got in their jeep and went on a trip. While Harry drove, Cheryl drew in her art book, scribbling…something she then labeled 'dad'.

A few hours in, the sun had set, Cheryl was sleeping, and Harry was trying to figure out if he would have enough time to arrange a murder. As he tried to calculate how long Cheryl would hopefully sleep, a police officer on a motorcycle pulled up next to him, nodded to him politely, and then drove away.

Maybe he wouldn't try something then.

But as he turned the corner, the motorcycle was on its side, no cop in sight, Cheryl was awake, and there was a girl in the road.

After the crash, Harry started to form an idea for a new book as he combed the streets, looking for Cheryl. A widower goes on vacation with his young child, only to end up in a hellish world. There was going to be a beautiful nurse, based off of Lisa, whom he recognized as his wife's former caregiver, an obviously delusional religious woman, a suspicious and angry cop, and a doctor who cared for nothing but himself.

And the ghost girl, the one tied so intrinsically to his little girl's fate.

The one who died and was reborn.

At the end, after running out onto the highway, just him and his new precious little girl, he decided to change the ending.

He liked it better in his head, when everyone died.

* * *

Seventeen years later, his horror and mystery career keeping the two of them well afloat, he heard a knock, someone quietly rapping their knuckles on the door frame. And he knew.

Him and Heather had just come back from their third combo kill, and he was suddenly happy to have taught her all he knew.

"Sorry sweetie, I'm not going to be…here when you get home." Harry said to a picture on the wall, before turning to the door.

He'd best not keep his guests waiting.

* * *

A/N: Hello! Here is Harry as a serial killer! :D

...sorry, you probably wanna know WHY I wrote Harry as a serial killer. Oh, right.

Well, it started when I wrote the SH4 characters as serial killers and then...yeah, this happened


	2. Chapter 2: The Red Death

She was older than she looked, something Lisa readily took advantage of in her many jobs. By the time she'd arrived in Silent Hill, she'd already had three other hospital jobs, spanning a few years at each.

(The last one…well, she had to leave a bit earlier than she'd wanted to. Someone had noticed her.)

With one look, she knew the doctor's type, and she arrived at work having stripped the coloured dye from her hair, her legs looking longer than ever in her uniform. And she got the job right away.

The director of the hospital, a Doctor Kaufmann, even took her under his wing, not that she needed it, but there was something…different about this hospital. About the people in the town.

She found herself with a new addiction then, 'White Claudia' he called it. She hadn't wanted to try it, but he'd been so smooth, so persuasive, that she gave in.

(She thought she could control it, but it was stronger, more potent than she'd thought, and she soon succumbed.)

As far as hospitals went, Alchemilla was rather…slack in their security. They only had 5 cameras, which were all easy enough to avoid. There was one security guard, but he spent most of his time sleeping. They didn't even have a lock on the medications room!

And soon, the patients whom were worst off, the illist of the ill, started to die. It wasn't really suspicious, not when the woman who'd been code blueing for the last day or so slipped away, or when that car crash victim who'd fallen into a coma fell into a much more permanent sleep, but Lisa knew she had to be careful.

She had rules, had to reason who and why she did it to each person. She could tell which ones were weak, which ones only had a few days left. The doctors were always talking, some even taking bets on which patients would die next, and Lisa kept an ear out.

She knew which ones were too far gone. She could tell which families were only hurting themselves in visiting someone who'd never recover. She was helping people, waking them up, helping them realized that the person they knew or once loved was too far gone to be saved.

Dozens of elderly people, ICU patients, and mortally ill and wounded people were ferried out in body bags, Lisa taking care not to rush, not to draw attention to what she was doing.

But then, as the addiction grew greater, a little girl was delivered to her to care for. As she was transferred from the people she was helping down to the basement with the poor little burnt girl, the amount of drugs the doctor was giving her grew less and less.

It was killing Lisa.

As the withdrawal symptoms grew worse and worse, Lisa found herself sobbing, wondering why the girl wouldn't die. She even tried to help her along, overloading her system with drugs, covering her mouth, even an accidental knick of the scalpel, but nothing. Not even a twitch. After numerous tries, she gave up.

It was of no use, the girl wasn't going to die.

But Lisa was.

(It wasn't until three days later that the bastard found her body, laid out on the ground in the basement. At least it wasn't one of the other nurses, she had always liked them more than any hoity-toity doctor.)

* * *

She didn't expect to wake again, to look up into the face of a writer, a man whose wife she'd… assisted to the end. She pretended not to remember him, was truthful about not remembering anything else, and helped him the best she could from the room she refused to leave.

In the end, blood flowed again when she remembered what she'd done to herself, and she smiled in glee when she took down the doctor.

Oh, how he would _scream_ for her.

* * *

A/N: An now for Lisa! :D


	3. Chapter 3: The Highway Woman

When Cybil was 8, her father hit her mother for the last time, and was taken away in cuffs. She went to her live with her aunt, and knew what she was going to be when she grew up.

When she was 16, she punched out her best friend's father when she came to school covered in bruises.

When she was in college, she hid a classmate from his girlfriend and helped him cover his scratches and bruises while the other woman screamed and ranted outside in the hallway.

Three months into her first job as an officer of the law, she was put on probation for seriously harming a domestic dispute suspect while he was in custody.

Three years into her first job as an officer of the law, Cybil had figured out ways to loop the cameras, to make it look like they had killed themselves.

Three years and five months into her first job as an officer of the law, Cybil shot and killed an unarmed drug dealer in plain view, and was put on forcible leave.

It was then that Cybil found herself under suspicion. Everyone looked at her like she had done something wrong, when she'd only been cleaning up the streets, keeping the filth that spread drugs around like they were butter from contaminating more children. She hated it

She found herself moving away from the big city, to a smaller one, and her anger grew. For one thing, there were less people for her to target.

And she did target people.

When her superiors there grew suspicious of the number of perps leaving the station with bruises and cradling their arms, she moved again.

In Brahams, she was mostly left alone to do her own thing. She got herself a bike and was sent out to patrol the area, to watch for speeders, dangerous drivers.

She eventually started to use this opportunity to…look for people unworthy of driving the roads she kept safe. A man who had prior convictions for drunk driving almost ran her down, and she dug him a shallow grave. A couple she stopped for a broken tail light was soon short a person after the man started to hit his wife for not changing the bulb earlier. A woman who had a record of child abuse found herself and her car deep in the woods, and set ablaze, after failing to signal that she was passing.

(Cybil had kept a close eye on that one. She didn't want anyone reporting the fire and sending someone out to investigate. She also didn't want the forest to catch.)

It was on one of her night patrols, on her way to Silent Hill to look into the death of the mayor and the police chief, when she noticed the car. She couldn't find anything wrong with it, nor with the drivers ability, so she passed them by. She nodded to the driver, taking note of his little girl in the passenger's seat, before speeding off.

It was then that everything went a little strange, out of her control.

It felt like she'd hit something and passed out, but when she woke up…she was in a diner. She recognized it as the one she'd stopped in at on her last trip to Silent Hill, but it had been busy then. Now it was deserted, no signs that there had been people crammed in the small space ever before. She also recognized the driver of that jeep she'd passed, passed out on a bench, but there was no sign of his little girl.

Had he brought her there to dispose of her? The thought made Cybil's blood boil, and it took all her control not to shoot him while he was unconscious.

When he woke, he managed to convince her that he was only there with his daughter for a vacation, and that she'd been missing after a crash. She didn't quite believe him, but felt compelled to give away her spare piece.

(She told him not to use it on her, but she was sure he would if he knew what she was thinking of doing to him if she caught him unaware)

She moved through the city, abandoned and foggy, no one and nothing in sight. No animals, no wind, no noise. Just her, her footsteps, and the fog. She had been looking for evidence that the town had once held life when she encountered the man again. This time he was raving about darkness, and how his child had been taken. It must have been drugs, it was the only explanation.

Then she ran into him again, obviously with his dealer. The woman ranted about demons in the darkness, and Cybil growled, before agreeing to search the amusement park for this little girl.

(She should have shot him in the café. It would have simplified things)

* * *

Something's hit her, and she is so, so angry. There's a man…he's talking to her, but she hates him. He want to hurt that little girl, and she can't let him. She draws her sidearm, and attacks, firing shot after shot, but she

Can't

Quite

Hit

Him.

(There's something on her back)

She's not quite there when the shot hits her, and all she can think before disappearing into the darkness is:

'I told him…not to shoot me.'

* * *

A/N: …how did this get so long jfc haha

Enjoy Cybil being angry at everyone.


End file.
